


I'll be Home for Christmas

by mylifeisloki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post AOU, an apologetic Bruce Banner returns to the Tower just in time to celebrate Christmas with the other Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first attempt at actually writing this pairing on my own. I hope it's acceptable, and I hope I can contribute more to this particular fandom in the future. :)

The happiest Christmas memories Bruce could remember were from when he was very young. He could remember his mother tying a scarf 'knitted with love' around his neck when he was maybe nine years old and wearing it so proudly each and every cold day going forward. He could remember the modest Christmas decorations; little, twinkling lights in their windows and a small tree that never had more than one or two presents under it. Church was a constant- always Christmas Eve mass at the little church around the corner, where they would sing carols and hold hands and pray for a better tomorrow. He could remember getting big, fat kisses on his cheeks under the mistletoe his mother would hang up in the kitchen.

And then, of course, he could remember the other memories around Christmastime. He could recall coming home to find his mother nursing another black eye when school was let out early for the holidays. He absolutely remembered the meager Christmas dinner his mother had slaved over being ruined in one of his father's rages. He remembered the beating he'd gotten when he stepped between them that time, and how his mother had given him his little Christmas present late that night while Bruce tried to hold back tears even though he was pretty sure his arm was broken. The last time he ever saw his father, it had been close to Christmastime.

To be honest, Christmas held a lot of ups and downs for Bruce and as he stood outside the Tower just a week before, he had to wonder if he'd be making good memories or bad ones that year. It had been almost eight months since he'd left without saying goodbye and while he'd kept in cautious contact with postcards from the various places he'd been living in, he felt like Natasha had every right to never actually want to see his face again. For all he knew, she could have been rejecting every single card, ripping them up, setting them on fire... He could be walking into a very hostile situation with a very wounded assassin.

Still, Tony had invited him back (after tracking him down because no eccentric billionaire took 'no' for an answer) and Bruce had contemplated for almost a month before deciding to take him up on his offer, which was why he was arriving on December 17th, not December 1st. Now that he was actually standing outside the Tower, it finally hit him that he was back in New York, back in the big city after a grueling sixteen hour flight that left his nerves so frazzled he needed to meditate in the cab on the way into Manhattan from JFK. This could be disastrous. Bruce just hoped it was worth the risk.

Slipping into their private entrance with a scan of his thumb, Bruce was immediately greeted by a familiar voice and he knew without having to ask that FRIDAY had already alerted Tony to his presence. Sure enough, Tony was the very first thing he saw when he emerged from the elevator on the main floor.

"Bruce! Got me a little nervous there, buddy. Thought you might not show up."

"I almost didn't." But Bruce's reply was muffled by Tony's shoulder, the other man having already wrapped his arms tight around his friend. For a second there, Bruce just stood very still, but his arms wound around Tony a moment later, his bag falling to the ground. Tony smelled like home somehow and that little fact would have been disconcerting if not for the fact that Tony smelled like motor oil and various chemicals.

"Well," Tony announced once he pulled back, patting Bruce's shoulder. "Now that you're back, let me go ahead and just answer the questions I know you've got rolling around in that big, beautiful head of yours."

He slipped an arm around Bruce's shoulders and grabbed his bag, leading him down the hallway towards the room he'd assigned to Bruce. "Thor? Still in Asgard. He's supposed to be back soon, but you never can tell. Clint? AWOL for the time being. Something about family bonding time. Vision and Wanda are a thing. Don't question it because you _will_ drive yourself crazy."

They arrived at his door and Bruce opened it, allowing Tony to drag him inside. "And your scary girlfriend? Off on a mission, but she should be back in a couple of days. So for right now, it's just you, me, Pep, Steve, Sam, and the lovebirds."

Bruce didn't know how to take that, but he was glad to see his room again. It felt nice to know that he was safe there- safe to shave and shower and curl up for at least ten hours of sleep, if not more. Sleeping for very long on the plane just wasn't an option. But first, he had a very excited billionaire to deal with. “Thanks, Tony,” he offered, pushing a hand through his unruly hair. “I really appreciate this. I just hope... everyone's okay with me coming back so unexpectedly.”

“Oh, yeah. They're gonna be thrilled,” he answered quickly. “Anyway, go ahead and rest for a while because I want you back in the lab as soon as possible and we have lots of Christmas stuff to do.”

Of course they did. Bruce offered up a tired smile and nodded, watching Tony slip right out the door. But Tony stopped there and grinned widely like he was reading Bruce's mind. “And by the way? No, she doesn't know I invited you back. G'night, Bruce!”

And with that, he was gone.

Bruce let out a heavy sigh now that he was left alone, slowly taking a seat on the edge of his bed. So Natasha didn't know what she was coming home to. She didn't know there was even a possibility that he might be there. There was a huge chance that this could go very, very badly. But she wouldn't be home for a couple of days, which meant that Bruce could breathe slightly easier for a while.

First things first; Bruce took a nice, long shower and shaved the stubble from his face right away. He made a mental note to get a haircut before she came back if only for the sake of keeping up appearances and headed into the bedroom to change and crawl into bed. That night, he slept for fourteen hours straight and woke up to bright sunshine streaming in from outside, along with FRIDAY dutifully reporting the weather.

Thankfully, he was alone in the kitchen for breakfast and remained alone until Sam wandered in as Bruce was rinsing his dish and his teacup. Pleasantries were exchanged and when Bruce turned back around from the sink, Sam was watching him over the rim of his own coffee cup.

“What's that look for?”

Sam shrugged, taking another long gulp of his coffee. “Nothing, really. Just trying to picture the look on her face when she realizes I was right.”

Bruce frowned. “Right about what?”

Smirking, Sam finished his coffee and plunked his cup in the sink so he could pat Bruce's shoulder as he moved past. “That you'd come back.”

That afternoon, Bruce went ahead and got his hair cut to a proper length, though he decided to keep his curls long enough to give him a sense of security. Maybe it was a childish idea, but he felt better when he had something to run his fingers through. It wasn’t until four days later that he got the announcement from FRIDAY-

“Ms. Romanoff has returned. She should be arriving on the main floor in seven-point-three minutes.”

Bruce couldn’t possibly lie about how his back stiffened, how goosebumps shivered their way down his spine and over his arms. She was back. It was now or never, right? No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d left no evidence in the common areas that he was living there again, so there was no reasonable way she could know he was there. He could hide! He could hide himself away until he was ready to---

“You planning on getting up there?”

His whole thought process came to a shuddering halt when Steve spoke up from where he was casually leaning against the door to Bruce’s lab. Tony had disappeared for the time being, so it was just the two of them… and Bruce didn’t at all like Steve’s implication. “She’s—She’s probably exhausted. She should have some time to rest. I mean, it’s going to come as a shock…”

They were poor excuses and it looked like Steve knew exactly what Bruce was trying to do, which was just infuriating. “Which d’you think would be worse; Natasha finding out you’re back on your terms, or Natasha finding out you’re back without your involvement. Because we both know she’s going to figure it out within—“ He paused and glanced at his watch. “I give it maybe two hours.”

Okay, so Steve had a point. Bruce heaved out a long sigh and wrung his hands together. He knew Steve was right, but it was kind of terrifying to think that she might just push him away. After all, he knew he’d betrayed her trust and he’d run away without her… If that wasn’t a rejection, he didn’t know what was. But he hadn’t wanted to reject her! He just needed some space and time after the whole kiss-and-shove fiasco.

She’d understand that, right? Besides! He’d kept in contact. Sort of.

“If anyone asks, I didn't need you to convince me to go,” he mumbled, shedding his lab coat and ruffling his hair in the hopes that he wouldn't actually look like he'd been in the lab since early that morning. Slipping past Steve, he made his way up to the main floor and asked FRIDAY for an ETA on Natasha.

“Ms. Romanoff will be reaching the main floor in approximately two minutes.”

Right. Bruce positioned himself somewhere off to the side and waited, fidgeting the whole time. It was quite possibly the longest two minutes of his life, but the elevator eventually dinged and when the doors slid open... there she was. Natasha looked as beautiful as she always had. She'd grown her hair out a bit, to the point where it fell just over her shoulders in smooth waves, and despite looking a little tired, she was just radiant.  
  
And Bruce realized he needed to tone that down if he wanted to survive.

She actually didn't see him at first and Bruce wryly congratulated himself on being able to blend into the background. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he cleared his throat and she just stopped, slowly turning to look straight at him.

Bruce hazarded a little smile, forcing himself to maintain eye contact instead of studying the floor between his feet. “Hey, Tasha,” he greeted softly, even daring to take a step forward and raise his hand for a small wave. “Long time, no see.”

She looked at him like he was ghost and she might just be imagining his presence there, which was either endearing or very, very worrying. Bruce did feel bad for leaving the way he had and he wanted to apologize for it, but he wouldn't get any closer until she let him know it was alright.

And so, they stared at each other for a very long time, neither saying another word.

Some long time later, Natasha straightened up a little bit, pressed her lips together, turned on her heel, and left him. Bruce had been expecting something like that, but it still hurt. He supposed he deserved that after what he'd done, but if she wouldn't even speak to him-- maybe he ought to leave. He wasn't going to traipse in and out of her life and make things difficult, okay? It wasn't right.

Fortunately, Steve just happened to show up again (the bastard was listening in, no doubt about it) and slid an arm over Bruce's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “She'll come around. But just to be sure, I'd start thinking if I were you.”

Bruce blinked. “About what?”

“About what you're going to get her for Christmas. Or did you really think it was a good idea to turn up empty handed?”

Eight months had apparently made Steve some kind of love guru. Well, either that or Bruce was just really out of practice. “That's a good idea, Steve,” he answered, ducking away from his arm and heading towards his room. “What are you getting Sam this year?”

He could _feel_ Steve's cheeks warm and proudly kept going so he could start to think about Natasha's gift. It would have to be a good one if he wanted her to at least try talking to him. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to wait very long for an outcome. The next morning was the 23rd, which meant Bruce was tossed in with all those other last minute shoppers. And it also meant that when he stepped outside to go shopping, he was surrounded by masses of people all crowding the streets and the stores alike.

Deep breaths. At least no one seemed to recognize him.

Two hours of shopping got him presents for Steve, Sam, Pepper, and Tony. Wanda and Vision were much more difficult, but he managed to pick up a romance themed basket from some gourmet shop that would have to do. As for Thor, Bruce picked up a gift card from the best steakhouse in the city- huge portions, lots of beer. Thor would be thrilled. And yet almost four hours into his shopping trip, when Bruce's nerves were well beyond frayed, he still hadn't found anything for Natasha.

The problem was that he really didn't know what was appropriate. He could get her a book or a sweater or, if he pushed it, some kind of specialty gun, but none of that seemed right. He wanted to show her that he cared for her, so it had to be something special. Bruce began perusing the jewelry stores he passed, checking out necklaces and bracelets and steadfastly avoiding the engagement rings because they were definitely not ready for a step like that, though imagining the look on her face was pretty amusing in a terrifying, morbid sort of way.

Bruce was beginning to lose hope by the time he came to his sixth jewelry store. Did Natasha even wear jewelry? She did, but certainly not often and would she even _want_ jewelry from him? Grumbling to himself, he headed into a promising looking shop and began inspecting the jewelry on display. He was interrupted by a polished saleswoman who gave him a dubious look like she didn't think he could afford the stuff in there.

“Are you looking for something special, sir?”

Looking up, Bruce debated just sighing and shaking his head, but-- He could use the help. “I'm trying to find something for my--” What? Girlfriend? “For someone I care about very much. It's got to be simple, but meaningful. And I'm having a really hard time finding the right thing.”

The woman asked if there was any stone or color that would mean something to her and Bruce basically hung his head for a moment before sheepishly telling her that green... might do the trick. With that in mind, she pulled out several different pieces set with emeralds and Bruce looked them over like he knew what he wanted, which he definitely didn't. Still, eventually his gaze settled on a simple, silver necklace with what looked like a tiny capsule held up by either side of the chain. Inside the capsule was a glittering emerald and Bruce.. actually really liked it.

Okay, maybe he liked it because he had a stroke of genius and was planning on altering it.

Still, he bought it right away and left carrying a tiny bag with his present neatly packed inside alongside all the other things he'd bought that day. When he got home, the first thing he did was meditate. He really needed it after several hours of being alone on the streets of New York, being jostled this way and that, dealing with people upon people upon people.

Once he'd calmed down, Bruce tucked the other presents away to wrap later and grabbed the necklace, stuffing the box into his pocket so he could head down to his lab. He locked the door with a privacy command and got to work. It wasn't something particularly crazy that he was doing, but it did take a certain level of concentration and a set of very steady hands- which meant that Tony wasn't welcome in the lab right now. He was way too much of a distraction.

About ninety minutes later, with Tony buzzing around the door and Steve pretending not to notice from where he was perched on the steps outside, Bruce finished. He looked down at his work with pride that quickly turned to worry that she might not like it, but he had to go with it now. And so, he tucked the necklace away again and put the box back in his pocket before he let FRIDAY open the doors.

“Finally,” Tony said immediately. “You realize I could have gotten in at any time, right?”

Bruce nodded. “Your self-control is impressive as always.”

There was an expectant pause before Tony nudged his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Well? Do we get to see it? Because I'd bet money you were working on something for Nat--”

“Nope. You don't get to see anything. G'night, Tony. Steve.”

There were protests as he left, but Bruce ignored them. He had wrapping to do. By the time the sun came back up, he'd tucked all his presents neatly under the Christmas tree in the common living room, including the little box with Natasha's name on it. That day, Bruce spent most of his time in his room trying to convince himself that yes, this was a good idea. She wasn't going to kill him or anything- she just might reject him. It wasn't like he hadn't been rejected before, right?

Late that afternoon, everyone showed up in the dining room for dinner. Bruce wore dark pants and green button down, not entirely realizing the irony in that until Tony pointed it out. He'd gone for a Christmas color, not something to pay homage to the Hulk. Thor had returned and looked like some kind of storybook prince at the head of the table, Steve and Sam were still dancing around one another as they took their seats together, and Wanda and Vision were-- confusing.

Bruce tried not to stare, but he'd never seen a couple who seemed so _content_. It was a little disturbing.

And then there was Natasha. She'd decided to wear black, but the dress she'd picked out was shimmering in the light of the candles on the table and her hair was down and Bruce was definitely staring. Clearing his throat, he forced his gaze away from her and set about fidgeting with the napkin on his lap. Once everyone had filled their plates, Tony got up to make a toast and Bruce tried (and failed) to keep his eyes off Natasha, who was seated across the table from him- though not directly across, he noticed.

He was late in raising his glass and one thousand percent sure that she noticed. Once everyone got to eating, the conversation changed to something a little more comfortable. People talked about funny Christmas stories they'd heard or experienced, Steve told the table how the soldiers celebrated, Sam talked about his childhood... Even Thor pitched in with a story about how they celebrated a similar feast in Asgard. When the conversation turned to Bruce, it was hard for him to think of anything funny that had happened to him on Christmas. Tony asked him what the best present he'd ever received was and Bruce felt very much like he shouldn't answer.

“Uh, a scarf,” he said quietly. “My mom made it for me. I kept it for as long as I could.”

And as always, it felt like his answer brought everything down. Bruce took a hasty sip of his drink and tried to focus on his food to make the embarrassment go away. The problem was that he could feel a particular set of eyes on him, even when Tony changed the subject and started talking about mistletoe.

After dinner, Pepper and Natasha began to clean up. Bruce was about to offer his help, but Thor insisted that he clean up the meal he'd enjoyed so very much and Bruce wasn't going to protest. When Wanda and Vision jumped in too, he knew he wasn't needed. Of course, moving into the living room to find Steve playing the piano while Sam hummed along to Christmas carols and Tony filled more glasses with champagne-- He just hadn't expected any of that, okay? Well, except the drinks.

Everyone eventually filtered into the living room to sit around the tree- Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper got first pick of the chairs and couches, then everyone else just kind of filled in. Bruce found himself sitting towards the back of the group with Thor beside him. That in itself was perfect because really, who was going to pay attention to him with a ball of sunshine beside him?

As presents were handed out, Bruce came to the somewhat delayed realization that everyone had gotten him something. He had an ominous looking box from Tony, a book-shaped present from Steve, a box from Sam... God, he even had a present from the happy couple over there, from Thor, from Clint, and from... Natasha.

There was hope, right? That had to mean there was hope.

There was a lot of talking and laughing as people began opening their presents. Bruce began with Steve's, quietly opening his gifts and inspecting each before piling them up on the side. He got a first edition book from Steve, a new pair of noise-canceling headphones from Sam, what smelled like an amazing herbal tea from Clint, a book on Asgardian science from Thor, a very warm blanket from Wanda and Vision, a ridiculously expensive tablet from Tony... and then all that was left was the box from Natasha, his name written out in her neat script.

He let that box sit on his lap for a long time before getting up the courage to actually open it up, not that anyone noticed. When he finally convinced himself to do it, Bruce carefully undid the wrapping instead of tearing it, and slid out a plain, white box about the size of a folded tshirt. He hoped to God she hadn't actually gotten him a tshirt while he'd gotten her that goddamn necklace. Because that would be the most awkward thing to ever happen and he'd have to put a paper bag over his head or something.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the top off, rustled through some tissue paper- and stared.

Laying there, neatly folded, was a knit scarf. It was carefully done, but Bruce guessed the person who'd made it was an amateur. Still, the soft green colors melded together enough to make it very pleasing to the eye, at least. Wait! Had she opened his?! 

Bruce frowned and finally turned his eyes up to where she was sitting clear across the room- holding his necklace in her hand, her face entirely unreadable. When Bruce had bought the necklace, it was just a clear capsule holding an emerald, nothing more. After his alterations, it was a capsule filled with glowing, green translucent resin that held an emerald inside it. It was meant to mean something, but he honestly just hoped she liked it.

He didn't realize everyone was watching them until Tony cleared his throat and both Bruce and Natasha's attention snapped to him. Slowly, both sets of eyes turned right back to stare at one another and since Natasha didn't say anything, Bruce awkwardly took the fall. “Wow, I love it,” he said sincerely, taking the scarf out of the box and draping it around his neck. It was warm, definitely, and Bruce would wear it going forward because it had come from Natasha and that made it very important to him. But it was very generic. He hadn't told her previously about his mother's gift-- Had he?

With the help of Tony, conversation got right back on track and Bruce quickly got up to deposit his gifts in his room and return for dessert. He was coming back towards the living room when he saw her casually leaning against the wall in his direct path.

“You know,” she said dangerously. “You've got a lot of nerve coming back like you did.”

Bruce swallowed. Uh oh. “Um. Tony invited me back for Christmas and I just thought-- I wanted to see everyone. I wanted to see... you. I can leave if you want, but--”

“It's funny how my opinion seems to matter now,” she countered, pushing herself up and taking a few quick steps towards Bruce. “You didn't bother asking me when you left the first time.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I never wanted to leave like that, but after what happened... It just seemed like the right thing. Did you get my postcards...?”

Another couple of steps. She got close enough to the point where Bruce had to step back a little.

“I got them,” she assured him, taking yet another step to force him back.

Bruce felt like he ought to be running or something, but all he kept doing was moving back when she stepped forward. “Look, I understand. I wouldn't wait for me either, you know? And believe me, I feel like an idiot giving you that stupid necklace when we're obviously not going that way because a scarf isn't _exactly_ a romantic gesture--”

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him. “Bruce, stop talking.”

What? He stopped immediately, but it wasn't until he followed her gaze up that he realized what had just happened. When he met Natasha's gaze again, her accusations and her anger were gone- and Bruce came to the conclusion that he'd just been played. “Mistletoe? Wait, I don't under--”

It turned out that he didn't have to understand. Natasha stepped forward a final time and sealed their lips together, sliding her arms around his neck like she'd been waiting for months and months to do this. And Bruce responded in kind, arms around her waist to hold her as close to him as possible. He didn't _want_ to let her go again. He didn't ever want to leave her again.

When they parted at last, Bruce blinked in bewilderment and wound up giving her this stupid, goofy smile. He could feel from the way it spread over his face that it was a stupid one, even more so when he realized that she was wearing his necklace. “So,” he breathed. “What was with the scarf?”

“You told me, don't you remember? Your mom knitted you a scarf when you were a kid. I figured I'd try my hand at it.” She looked somewhere between critical of her own work, which was still hanging around Bruce's neck, and rather proud. Maybe a little unsure of herself.

Bruce just raised his eyebrows. “You learned to knit?”

Now, Natasha was not the type to blush. She really wasn't. But Bruce could have sworn he saw the apples of her cheeks turn just a little pink- that is, right before she grabbed the aforementioned scarf and dragged him in for another kiss.

“I'm still mad at you,” she mumbled against his lips.

Bruce nodded a little bit. “I know,” he answered. “I'm sorry.”

Natasha made a somewhat impatient sound and pressed him back against the side of the doorway, effectively cutting off all conversation until once again, Tony cleared his throat.

“Guys? Maybe get a room.”

Bruce could feel Natasha flipping him off and he had to laugh, muffled as it was. Soon enough, she was grabbing his scarf again, this time leading him back towards his room to a chorus of approval from their friends. It was about time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
